he's just a boy
by adamantly
Summary: but he's a bottom. Or, the one where Jean loves cock. JeanMarco.


Written for the snkkink meme prompt: Bottom!Jean. Currently unedited. Enjoy!

* * *

Jean loves cock.

He does, he really does. He loves the way they look, how sensitive they are, how he can bring a man to his knees, figuratively and literally, with just a brush of his hand or a swipe of his tongue.

He loves the feel of cock stretching his mouth when he sucks his boyfriend off, loves the feel of his lips wrapped around that delicate hardness while his throat works to take in as much as he can. He loves the ache in his throat after Marco's stuffed his mouth so nice and full, the way Marco reaches down to touch his cheek, feeling his erection through the thin flesh. Jean loves the telltale wrecked cocksucker voice he has for the rest of the day because of it. (But he thinks Marco likes it more.)

He loves the way Marco hikes his legs up comfortably over his shoulders, the way he grips the headboard with one hand, using the other to slip-slide he head of his cock over Jean's worked-open hole. Jean loves the anticipation, hyperaware of how horribly empty he is when Marco dips his cock into Jean's awaiting ass, ever so slightly, then leaving him once more as Jean nearly sobs with desperation, begging Marco to just hurry up and _fuck _him instead of smirking at him like he isn't about to break himself.

He loves the slight burn when he has Marco on his back and sinks onto that delicious cock only slightly prematurely. He loves the way Marco holds him close while he whimpers, whispering gentle admonitions in his ear to _slow down, baby, I'm not going anywhere_while he forces himself to adjust while Marco runs his hands up and down Jean's back, making him feel so safe, so _loved_.

He loves the way the burn gives way to a pleasurable ache, the way he rocks his hips, copious amounts of lube making the slide so easy it's almost unbearable. He loves the way he sits astride Marco's hips, impaled on that cock as he rolls his hips, settling into an easy grind that forces Marco's eyes shut and a flush to rise over that dark, freckled chest.

Jean loves the way riding Marco's thick cock makes him lose control. He loves the way Marco's eyes snap open, the way his fingers dig into the pale skin on his hips as he forces him up and down his cock, meeting Jean thrust for thrust, slamming upward into him as Jean crashes down, the impact causing him to see stars.

He loves the way he can come with his own cock untouched, that just having Marco's cock filling him up so perfectly is enough to make come so hard he can feel it in his bones. He loves the way Marco manhandles him on all fours, the way he can sink to his elbows and let his head hang as he pants, focusing only on Marco's cock sliding in and out, stretching him, fitting into him like they're puzzle pieces.

He loves the way Marco shifts his angle just slightly in his position, fucking into him searchingly as Jean arches his back, rocking back into him trying to find his prostate. It doesn't take long, it never does; Marco knows Jean's body so, so well, yet it never fails to shock him when Marco strikes the gland flawlessly. Jean freezes for a split second before he's rocking back wantonly, shamelessly begging _right there, right there, Marco, please_, _please, please _and Marco curls over Jean's back, pressing his lips to the back of his neck before whispering filthily in his ear _there? Right there, baby? You want me to fuck you right here?_And Jean will keen low in his throat because his words have failed him and it's all because of Marco's perfect fucking cock pressed all snuggly against his prostate which has always been more sensitive than normal. He loves how it never takes too long after that, that each precise thrust of Marco's hips can force an orgasm out of Jean that leaves him jaw slacked, loose and so blissfully content.

(He also loves that Marco tries to wait until after Jean's come, so he can fuck into him hard, deep and rough with animalistic abandon that threatens to get Jean hard again—just the way he likes to be fucked after he's all wrung out.)

While it's no lie that Jean likes a good, hard fucking, he also likes the quieter moments. The ones that happen late at night in the privacy of their bedroom, where Jean lays on his back with Marco literally surrounded by him, covering him and keeping him tucked close to his heart. He loves the way Marco curls his hands behind Jean's head, pillowing him and pressing their foreheads together. He loves the way they're pressed together from chest to hip, Marco's hips rolling against his, sending currents of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He loves the way Marco makes sure they're as close as they possibly can be, with Jean's cock cradled gently between their stomachs. He loves the way Marco stares into his eyes, kissing those fluttering eyelids, his cheeks, his nose; everything.

He loves the way his orgasm rolls over him in waves, come spurting between their chests. His name falls from Marco's lips like a prayer, who comes, tumbling down the mountain shortly after.

* * *

So yeah, Jean definitely loves cock and the fact that he doesn't have one in him right now is really fucking annoying.

Marco's running late, he had to take the scenic route because some dumbass decided not to put their winter tires on and cause an accident on the freeway Marco takes when he gets home from work.

Jean sighs, leaning back on their bed, chewing his lip idly. His skates his fingers along the rim of his hole, moaning slightly as he brushes along is perineum. Drawing his knees up, he adds a little more lube to his hand before skating it up the length of his aching cock, taking in a shuddering breath before resting his hand on his stomach while he sinks two fingers into his loosened hole with a groan.

He locates his prostate with ease, scissoring his fingers apart around it before rubbing over the walnut shaped spot in tight little circles that leave Jean arching his back as his free hand scrambles for purchase in the sheets. He fucks into himself harder, hips raising to meet his fist while his fingers work wonders on his prostate.

Jean's vaguely aware of the front door clicking open, and he starts moaning with abandon, praying to every god he knows that it is actually Marco; otherwise shit's going to get awkward really fucking fast.

There's a pause, but Jean honestly does not give a shit because he's close and every muscle in his body is coiled tight like he's going to break into a million pieces if he doesn't come _right fucking now—_

Marco bursts into the room and Jean looks up in time to see him looking all like kinds of frantic, one hand tugging his tie while the other makes quick work with his belt. He throws them to the floor and stalks toward the bed, lust blown eyes piercing and fuck if that isn't the hottest thing.

"_Marco_," he groans out. His wrist is cramping but he's so close. Marco climbs on top of him, dislodging his hand to pin his wrists over his head while he presses his mouth to Jean's, tongue working deep in his mouth and Jean's pretty sure he's going to explode, because Marco's here, and he's filling him, but it's not _enough_.

"Couldn't wait, huh?" Marco says between kisses, grinding his hips into Jean's. Jean throws his head back, panting. He hikes his legs higher up Marco's torso, trying to get closer. Marco transfers his wrists into one large hand, the other reaching down to undo his fly and free his straining cock.

"Hell no," Jean gasps, because Marco is slicking himself up and pushing his cock insistently against Jean's hole. He groans when he meets little resistence—which there shouldn't be, Jean's literally been fucking himself for hours—

All thought leaves Jean's mind because Marco is finally, _finally _sliding his cock into him and he's here, he's home and Jean's full of Marco and he's pretty sure this is all he needs in life to be happy.

"Harder," Jean demands. "_Please_, babe, I need it—been thinking about you all _day,_" Marco groans at that, sounding utterly broken, before he rounds his back and fucks Jean so _perfectly._

Jean orgasm rips through him shortly after Marco curls his hand around Jean's erection, tugging at his cock at the same pace of his hips. He throws his head back, arms straining against Marco's iron grip as he clenches over and over again, and milking Marco's cock for everything he's worth.

Marco snaps his hips once, twice, three times before he groans low and deep, flooding Jean's ass and forcing a whimper out of him before collapsing onto Jean's chest attempting to catch his breath.

Jean's almost asleep before Marco sheepishly raises his head and grins down at Jean. "Hi," he says softly, pulling out of Jean and falling to the side. He gathers the placid man up in his arms, tucking Jean's face into his neck.

Jean smiles, entirely too fucked out to come up with something witty. "Hi,' he replies, significantly sleepier.

Marco laughs, and Jean's heart swells with affection. He presses a kiss to Jean's head. Jean sighs, cuddling closer. He may love cock, but he's pretty sure he loves Marco more.


End file.
